


To Kill or not to Kill

by Isaya



Series: Advent Calendar 2018 [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Dark Brotherhood Quest?, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 22:40:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16819867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isaya/pseuds/Isaya
Summary: Murderous dragonborn takes exception at being told to kill someone. She only kills for funsies. They have no right.





	To Kill or not to Kill

Who did that bitch think she was? Bad enough that she’d kidnapped her – and how in all the planes of Oblivion did she manage that?? Normally it was impossible for someone to creep up on her – but now she dared ordering her to kill someone?

… Not that killing someone was a problem for her. It was her favourite past time, after all, trying to see how many murders all over Tamriel she could get away with unnoticed – like the woman at that lumber mill west of Windhelm, or that thief in Riften (why in the world would she want to join a thieves guild? It’d just drag her down.), or the nobles in Solitude.

And killing beggars was hilarious. It was almost sad that no one made the connection. Give them a gold, wait a few days and then kill them – and the next time you go visit their cities you even get paid for it. It wasn’t much but still. So stupid, making someone an heir that gave you money just the once. But no skin off her nose.

Point is: she loved killing. The thrill of a kill was the very air she breathed. But she only killed because she wanted to. For _fun_. And, admittedly, for survival in case of bandits and the like. Alas, such was the way of life in Tamriel; her life at least. She did _not_ however kill at someone else’s behest.

True, she had killed the one that little boy wanted dead but that was more out of bemusement than anything – or maybe amusement. So while someone might say that she _had_ killed at his behest he had not, however, ordered her to. Nor did she go out of her way to do as he asked. It had been many weeks later that she found herself again in Riften. And she had been bored out of her mind in her room at the inn, waiting for the smithy to open. She had come into some money – who knew travelling merchants carried that much coin? – and decided to splurge a little and to procure a better weapon. Her sword was fine (she had found it in a grave; draugr were _annoying_ ) but both her daggers and her bow had seen better days.

Back to the point: how dared this bitch order her to kill at her behest – leaving the choosing of a victim between the three kind of was a nice touch though, but not really.

Ugh, that… _wench_ was still talking. She should’ve killed her self-important ass as soon as she saw her sitting on those shelves like she was something special. The derelict hut was bathed in dim light that shone through the cracks and a lit fireplace but it was enough to see that there wasn’t much to her. The woman called herself an assassin, a member of the dark brotherhood, but didn’t want to get her hands dirty?

If she wanted someone killed, she’d never let someone else do it for her let alone ask, no, demand for said someone to. Wasn’t that the whole point to being an assassin, killer, or whatever: to kill? Didn’t delegation or whatever the fuck this was supposed to be defeat the purpose?

She cocked her head. The woman was still droning on.

What was the point of killing a bound nobody? Not that her kills didn’t include nobodies, most probably were, but really. What was the point? Those poor bastards were kneeling there, bound, just waiting to be killed. What was the point? Where was the thrill in killing anyone like this?

She was not a moral person, far from it, but something about this rubbed her the wrong way. Killing like this seemed almost dishonourable – and she had no qualms killing someone whether it was by a dagger in the back, a sword to the throat or an arrow from somewhere unseen. She wasn’t particularly picky. Some ( _Nords_ ) would call her dishonourable for killing someone unarmed, someone that couldn’t see her coming, for not giving (all) her victims a chance to fight back. She had little use for such sentimentalities. Yet still, this seemed cowardly.

Well, she wouldn’t do as the blabbermouth said either way.

…

No. _No._ She may _not_ take her silence as acceptance – to be frank; she’d just stopped listening to the prattle.

… And she had already seen the three potential victims, thank you very much. Didn’t mean she had any interest in going through with this farce but oh, well.

She ordered her to kill someone? _Fine._

She took a step towards the woman in the middle, brandishing her daggers – only to whirl around and throw them at the annoyance perched atop the empty shelves. Well, she said something about a knife thrust; Tirmo hoped she’d also be happy with a dagger throw or two.  


Huh. Tirmo hadn’t expected to hit the wench in the eye considering that she hadn’t really taken any time to aim properly but she wasn’t complaining. While the woman was therefore distracted, Tirmo grabbed her sword and waited attentively. _She_ fumbled with her weapon – to defend herself and attack her most likely but the only thing she accomplished was losing her balance and sliding off the shelves.

Oh. Not the only thing. Tirmo quickly dodged the dagger clumsily thrown her way and moved to decapitate the nuisance to make sure her death would stick.

Grabbing her things, she turned to leave and stopped for a moment to think. Under different circumstances, she would just kill the three and be done with it but… the thought rankled. No, she wouldn’t kill them. Or at least not kill them directly. It was a matter of principle by now.

But to just leave them alive…

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. Maybe… yes. She nodded to herself and grabbed the dagger the woman had thrown at her. Using her sword she shuffled the burning logs around to set fire to this disgrace of a hut. Then she turned around to the door and skipped through. Outside she dropped that dagger to the ground.

“If I were you, I’d get out of there before you burn to death – the door is open and there’s a dagger outside that you can use to free yourselves if you make it that far. If not, well. Not my problem.” This way at least, they’d have a chance. And if they died because of her, eh, she hadn’t killed them directly.

Grumbling to herself she looked around, at the sky, trying to figure out where to go next. Hm, she couldn’t see anything familiar and considering she had no idea how far she’d been dragged here… Ah, well. Shrugging to herself, she picked a random direction and walked away.

The woman had wanted her to kill someone?

Alright. She would go kill someone.

She had an entire brotherhood to hunt for their audacity.

_It’d be fun._

**Author's Note:**

> So that was day two.  
> Same as yesterday, not edited or beta-ed. Just spell-checked by word.


End file.
